


When the Frost met the Knight

by Righ (Venenum)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venenum/pseuds/Righ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The knight awoke with a start, gasping deep lungfuls of humid air. All around, the forest was silent and dark in the glade and his attention fell to the roots ensnaring his ankles. Tearing at them with his fingernails, the golden vambraces he wore caught his eye and, stumbling, he wrenched out of the hollow in which he had come to consciousness; it was a huge old oak tree, gnarled to the point of letting sagging boughs almost touch the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> In Jamie's bedroom, the film depicts a poster of an RPG game kind of like Final Fantasy on his wall, "Rainbow Quest IX". Using that as a base, I decided to run with it for this fic which will hopefully have a lot more chapters if people like the theme in it. The prologue is short, but I didn't want to clog it up with a ton of unnecessary drama.

The knight awoke with a start, gasping deep lungfuls of humid air. All around, the forest was silent and dark in the glade and his attention fell to the roots ensnaring his ankles. Tearing at them with his fingernails, the golden vambraces he wore caught his eye and, stumbling, he wrenched out of the hollow in which he had come to consciousness; it was a huge old oak tree, gnarled to the point of letting sagging boughs almost touch the ground. In the center was a large hollow that closed back up of its own accord when he dared to tentatively touch a wooden lip, backing off as the bole furled back in on itself and soon appeared as normal as any of the others that hemmed him in.

He reached up to rub at his eyes, espying a pond nearby that would suit his purposes. The face that peered back at him where he knelt was in its mid-twenties, handsome and clean-shaven with a shaggy mop of lush chestnut hair that curled into the emerald collar of his tunic, framing two eyes as earthy and dark as the richest soil. Even in the moonlight, rosy skin appeared flush and felt warm to the touch, veined in green.

His hand brushed one of the closed flowers nearby and he yelped as it flourished into bloom. Tentatively, he poked another and another, laughing under his breath as he looked around and noticed that wherever he walked seemed to grow vibrant and thick, grass flurrying under each leather boot-heel chasing dandelions and thistles. Upon closer inspection, he discovered his metal armor wasn't in fact any such thing at all but incredibly hard wood varnished in golden leaves that shone with a supernatural glimmer. Pauldrons shaped like ivy fanned out to reach down his back like a second protective spine, mirroring the design on greaves and a breastplate that bore an old man's face. Peering at it upside-down, it showed the mouth and eyes spewing vegetation.

Yanking down the gilt chainmail coif hemming in his ears, he tried to recall what might have brought him to the woods. It was impossible to figure anything out until a shaft of moonlight brightened overhead, bathing him in a balmy glow. He understood then. The nature of what he was unravelled the longer he gazed up at the full moon, knees embedded in impromptu flower-beds.

The Green Knight, Spirit of Summer.

Silence fell again, though it seemed he had heard a comforting voice where none had actually spoken. The harder he listened, the more apparent it was that he was getting no more answers and so he rose on shaky feet only to feel the ground beneath his feet shift.

The earth was _alive._ Sensing life all around, a creaking like to that of an old door sharply caught his attention, luring him to the edge of the glade where the oak tree unravelled the bark of one of its massive branches like a scroll. Taking hold of the sword that gave itself up, he stepped back and gave a couple of expert swings, delighted when the heft and weight of the weapon matched his abilities perfectly, even if he couldn't remember using one before. It fit snugly into the scabbard he belted around his waist yet there was no helmet to complete his outfit when he checked the tree twice over and the spirit – Knight, as he decided to call himself – wandered into the forest under the watchful eyes of its denizens. Foxes stole across the underbrush, unafraid to leap across a bank in full view, badgers paused to sniff the wind by their dens as he walked a path of its own whimsy and owls hooted their greetings. Every now and then he halted to touch a sapling and infuse it with strength, to slide his bare palm up a dying tree like a comforting friend and mend the damage right to the core. The forest bowed before him in deference to its new protector, a swell of affection for such demure and unlooked-for respect warming his heart.

Still, he had no idea what the moon wanted him to do. Continued on his way for the greater part of the night, it happened he came upon the edge of the woods that gave off in a steady slope down toward a sizeable town, bright lights blinking in the houses as daybreak settled in, not quite enough sunlight to excuse the darkness completely.

When he stepped out onto the bank, the heavens parted and in much the same way as the moon has behaved, the sun threw its rays over his armor, only this time it felt as if the heat and light belonged there, close enough to taste. The foliage came awake at this subconscious bidding, so much so that Knight tried angling the beams where he wanted until he could do it with a simple gesture. Just as everything around him seemed to sing with color and brilliance, a cold wind rushed across the ground and brought overcast clouds to blot out the sunshine. Hoarfrost prickled up the slope and, uneasily, Knight drew his sword at the approaching party.

A slight figure touched down out of the sky, pale and silver-haired though his face was anything but old. Younger than Knight by several years but still a man, concern overtaking astonishment that governed his reaction for a handful of seconds. He tried to step forward and Knight raised his glinting weapon in warning, causing the stranger to shake a hand and hold out a staff at his side to signal he wanted no trouble.

"Steady on! Calm down, it's alright. I don't believe it." The voice was deep and clear, matching the clarity of wonder-struck icy eyes. "I – I never thought he'd actually _do_ it, but – it's you, isn't it? It is!"

"I don't know you," said Knight tersely, holding his ground. He noted how the other man (spirit?) sagged in the shoulders. "How did you find me and … what did you do? You've brought the cold."

"You don't remember," murmured the spirit. "Of _course_ you don't. It's me! It's Jack, Jack Frost."

"Still don't know you, buddy."

"Yeah, I'm kind of catching up to speed with things myself, just … put down the sword, okay? I'll disarm too, if it'll make you feel better."

Resheathing his blade, Knight looked over Jack with more suspicion than trust. It worse came to worse, he _was_ wearing armor, enough to take a blow from the shepherd's crook while he defended himself.

Jack let his staff hang loosely in his hand as he slowly approached. 

"It's really you …"

"I'm the Green Knight," he said, since it was all he did know to contend with whoever or whatever Jack thought he was. "The Spirit of Summer."

The smile that graced wintry features was tinged by a sadness that Knight couldn't understand, pleased through a veil of grief as it was. Jack was shorter than Knight by a couple of inches when he halted in front, grin widening as he drank in everything there was to see.

"No, you're not," he said without ceremony. 

It was such a confident, plaintive thing to toss out that at first Knight was offended.

"Yes, I _am_. The moon told me so."

"Oh, sure, no doubt about it, but you're so much more than that and I'm going to help you figure out why," said Jack, not unkindly.

Knight frowned. "I don't even know you," he put in as a last-ditch attempt at arguing his point.

The hand that slid into his at his side was chill and uncomfortable, squeezing with a gentle reassurance that won out and convinced him not to let go.

"Yeah, you do," said Jack, fondly. He shook his head. "You'd never forget me, Jamie."


	2. The Black Waters Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good! Very boring, learning this and that about frost –"
> 
> "Uh, excuse me?" interjected Jack, waved off.
> 
> "– first you sprinkle some here, then over there, all very dainty." A thick index pointed at Jamie's nose. "What you need is excitement! First, you explore the wilderness. Then, you learn how to bring summer all over the globe!"
> 
> "Once I figure out what exactly it is I can do," Jamie demurely agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to this song while writing this chapter, it seemed a nice dichotomy between Knight's acceptance into the fold and the last character's perspective.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5x2S7Hc5K3E

"No! Bad idea! Very bad, worst of all."

Exasperated, Jack thumped his forehead off his staff and tried once more to reason with an irate North.

"You're not going to convince me that leaving the kid in the dark for three-hundred years about this is the best way to go," he snapped, ice already coating the ground under his feet. "He has a family that's still alive, he deserves to know about them! It's his right."

"No one ever said it wasn't, mate," put in Bunnymund, waving a paw as if to whisk away the tension threading tighter between the two quarrelling Guardians. "All North's saying is there's a reason we forget in the first place. Give the titch time to acclimate. Yeah?"

But Jack wasn't in the mood to listen. Jamie was alive and breathing down the hall in North's office, not dead in his bed with lungs rotten and full of infection. Jack absolutely _did not care_ what his friends had to say on the matter, and that was very likely why Sandy knocked him out with a dart of dreams to the back of the head when he raised his staff, ready to freeze the lot of them in place and damned well _take_ Jamie to the Tooth Palace himself.

He woke up to the sight of beautiful brown eyes and a wrinkled, concerned nose.

"Oh, good," said Jamie, features brightening considerably into dimples. He moved off the couch where Jack had been left to sleep off his impromptu nap ( _bastards_ ) and rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the winter spirit sit up. "I thought you'd sleep the whole day away."

He was perfect, Jack noticed all over again. From the first moment he swooped down when the Man in the Moon's busy state (for once) directed him where he had needed to go, right when he had given up hope, Jamie was a picture of health. Tall and broad-shouldered with a five o'clock shadow in seemingly permanent addition to the child-like openness he had always owned, now set in the face of a handsome man.

 _Immortal_ , Jack thought with no small amount of relish.

"And miss out on meeting you properly? Not even a question. Where are the others?"

"They sent me to check on you, see if you weren't still out cold."

"Thoughtful," grumbled Jack.

"You, uh. Back in the glade," the new spirit started with a flicker of uncertainty. "You called me by a name. Why did you do that?"

He didn't know why the others had sent Jamie to wake him up. Maybe they anticipated he would inform him of everything right off the bat (it certainly felt like he had every right to after getting knocked out cold) and it was pointless to try stopping him, or …

_Damn it, North._

Averting his eyes, he briefly hitched up a smile and chuckled, though it sounded weak even to his ears and Jamie looked sceptical.

"I'm not sure, kiddo," he said, offering a useless shrug. He vaguely hated himself for withholding the truth, yet it was obviously a test. When faced with so much intrigue and purity, Jack wondered if his friends hadn't known he'd find himself a grizzled old thing who should have known better than ranting blindly at a newborn.

It wasn't like he knew what he was doing, after all. He had been the youngest spirit for a while, three centuries under his belt or not.

_You didn't have to hit me so hard, Sandy._

"'Kiddo'?" The smirk that Jack found infectious flared. Jamie arched a brow and folded his arms, golden armor glinting magnificently. "You look younger than me."

"Do you even know how old you are?"

"Uh ..."

"Yeah," said Jack smugly, tapping a thigh with the crook of his staff and sending hoarfrost rampantly down the same leg. He laughed when Jamie yelped in surprise. "Keep a lid on the sass for now, new guy."

Sighing, Jamie looked up as he shook snow off a boot and obediently (with a mutinous scowl) held his tongue as Jack continued.

"I'm gonna assume the guy with the big red belly filled you in on the basics."

"Pretty much, the Tooth Fairy took over when North started, um, acting scenes out." No one in history had ever made confusion look as out of place on a face as Jamie did. "He said I'm the new Green Knight, the spirit of summer. The Man in the Moon told me the same thing. I … don't really know what that entails, to be honest."

"You bring the warmth and the sunshine," Jack readily filled him in. "Mostly the latter. When Bunny's done setting the foundations for your season, you swoop in, have a ball and I'll take things over after a few months. Kind of my opposite."

"Spirit of winter, huh?"

"Jack Frost, at your service," he said with a polite nod.

"I'm gonna go with 'Knight'," Jamie decided. Jack had to bite the inside of his cheek. Shifting forward, he offered a hand that was shaken and visibly shocked Jamie with its temperature. "Nice to meet – wow, you really are frosty!"

"Well, I'm not just a show-pony, kiddo."

"Seriously, is that going to be my new nickname with you?"

"Would 'dimples' be better?"

"Hah! No, thanks. I think I'm good, 'Kiddo' it is. _So_ ," said Jamie, arms spread wide. "Why am I here? Apart from chilling out – no pun intended – with you guys. Am I a Guardian?"

"Not yet." There was no way Manny wouldn't appoint Jamie into their ranks, of that Jack was certain. "You heard about that, did you?"

"Tooth told me," said Jamie with a nod, smile returning along with a hearty blush that twisted something buried low in Jack's stomach. "She was really patient and sat with me for a few hours while you were out."

"A few _hours_?" Wincing, Jack shouldered his staff and jerked his head to the door, signalling Jamie to follow. "In that case, want to come and watch as I kill Sandy?"

"I think he could take you."

There was nothing unrepentant in the smirk Jack found angled his way. He returned it with a murmur, navigating the yeti-and-elf strewn hallway as the familiars went about their jobs. (Frankly, he'd have rather took on North with the elder's weapons in tow any day, but there was no need to admit to that in company. Or ever.)

"Whatever. You hungry?"

"Sort of. If I'm a spirit, do I need to eat?" Turning in a full three-sixty as he walked, straining to get a peek at all the toys being ferried around, Jamie hurried to catch up with Jack who patiently waited nearby. "Do ghosts even need to worry about dying? I mean, we're _alive_ , but we're not … Jack, what's up?"

Squinting incredulously, he stared at Jamie in mingled wonder and horror.

"You _know_ you're a ghost?" he said, the implication Jamie shouldn't resonating throughout the chamber and causing Dingle, fiddling with fairy lights nearby, to look up. "Who – Who told you that? You're _okay_ with it?"

"Tooth did and, yeah. Is there something wrong?"

"No, I … I just reacted a little differently when I found out."  
 _  
To say the least._

Jamie's smile was considerate of his talk with the feathery woman. Jack had never felt overly attracted to Tooth but he was the owner of an undying eighteen-year-old body and had three-hundred years of observing mortals under his belt; the burgeoning crush Jamie had on the Guardian was painfully obvious albeit not unfounded.

"It's alright, though," said Jamie, "because you're here with me. All of you."

"Yeah," said Jack, smiling through an indefinable sense of loss ( _you have everything you ever wanted, Jamie is safe and sound and talking with you_ ). "Yeah, you've got us forever." He clasped a leathery green shoulder, the fabric cooling under his palm though Jamie himself showed no discomfort. "Don't ever doubt that for a second, okay?"

"I won't, Jack." Fondness melted into mirth. "You came to get me, didn't you?"

Stepping around him, Jack led the way to the main foyer of the workshop.

"At the glade? Sure did. I –"

"I'm really grateful, I was so confused when I saw you fly down and ruin my flowers. At first I was scared I'd have to fight you," laughed Jamie. It was a lovely sound, Jack noted, deep and the kind of noise that made a room full of over-worked yetis smile. "Can you imagine that? Me, fresh out of my tree, fighting Jack Frost the wizened old man of winter."

"Hey! First I'm the youngest, now I'm a geriatric? Thanks a lot."

Jack's huffing was ruined when Jamie nudged his arm. It was reminiscent of the first time Jack nudged _him_ , back when a little boy of eight stood close enough to touch and _wow_ , he was much stronger these days. Not a bad thing. Dingle probably disagreed as he scurried out of the way of a tripping Guardian, but _meh_.

"You're the one who wants to be the wise teacher."

"No, you're just an inexperienced little brat, there's a difference."

"Uh huh, then why do you look so pleased with yourself?"

"I could make you slip on your rugged ass right here in front of all your new admirers," Jack warned, only half meaning it.

Jamie stuck his chin out.

"Is that a challenge, frostbite?"

A shiver of deja vu trickled down Jack's spine, interrupted from putting the snotty young spirit in his place by a booming voice.

"There he is – the Green Knight!"

"Oh, boy," he muttered, avoiding Jamie's rapidly blinking eyes. "Watch out."

He distinctly heard a squashed _Urk_ from their direction as he strolled over to Bunny where the rabbit had taken up residence leaning against a pillar, shaking his head to an inquiring look.

_Did you tell him everything?_

_No_.

Bunny relaxed, as did Tooth where she floated over from a trio of fairies. Baby Tooth whizzed up to hug Jack's arm and he gave her a gentle squeeze in greeting before letting the entitled little lady take up residence nestling in his hood.

"Where have you been?" complained North, letting Jamie stagger to his feet as he released him from what looked like a bone-crushing hug. A couple of dents showed on armor. "Has Jack been wagging his tongue at a million miles an hour?"

There was a certain savvy twinkle in North's eye that Jamie, readjusting a wonky pauldron, entirely missed, but that Jack returned with the same dismissive look he had shown the others. Whether he imagined it or not, the residual anxieties from earlier discussions dissipated the instant a jolly demeanor returned in full.

"No, sir."

"Good! Very boring, learning this and that about frost –"

"Uh, excuse me?" interjected Jack, waved off.

"– first you sprinkle some here, then over there, all very dainty." A thick index pointed at Jamie's nose. "What you need is excitement! First, you explore the wilderness. Then, you learn how to bring summer all over the globe!"

"Once I figure out what exactly it is I can do," Jamie demurely agreed.

"What you 'can do', am I hearing this right? You are the _spirit of summer_ , my boy, you _can do_ whatever you want with nature!" Slapping a hand on Jamie's back, North sent him forward a couple of steps. "If it is brown, make it green! If it is cold, heat it up! Tooth, tell him my advice is sound."

"He's right!" she said perkily, zipping forward with hands clasped and a lilac gaze peering longingly at bright white teeth. Jamie suddenly beamed attentively, at which point Jack shared a wry look he was surprised to find returned by Bunny. "I can't _wait_ to see you in action, Knight! You'll do just fine, we're all sure of it."

"And I'll be there to help him."

The room turned to look at Jack as one.

"That'd really help," Jamie said, sending him a relieved smile that was returned a few watts brighter. 

"If anyone should be training up the newbie, it's me," argued Bunnymund indignantly, whiskers twitching. Gesturing to Jack, he scoffed. "What are you going to teach him? How to frost a daffodil? No, _no_ , I don't think so. I'll take him on."

"I don't think coaxing a plant out of the ground is all that difficult, Bunny," rounded Jack, the same stubborn fire from earlier flickering to life in the ice-box of his chest. "'Up' seems a pretty universal concept."

"Spring and summer _go_ together," growled Bunnymund.

"Summer needs to learn how to _fade_ into autumn."

"Y'know, you can't hog the kid all to yourself because you think you've got reasons –"

"Name them, kangarabbit."

"You – You what! Oh, you don't want me to do that in front of a crowd, Jack –"

"Whoa, whoa." Raising his gloved hands, Jamie's attempt to step in went selectively unheard until he raised his voice. "Guys! You can both help if you want. I mean, I've got the initiative but I wouldn't say no to a little direction."

Jack stared Bunnymund down (or tried to, they both looked away at the same moment). 

"Jack," said Tooth, not wanting to cause a fight but unable to stop her feathers twitching, "don't you have business elsewhere? You need to deal winter out to other places while Knight warms up the rest of the world. If you need to get in contact with him then just ask Sandy to send a message."

"Where _is_ the Sandman, wasn't he here not too long ago?" asked Jamie looking around, and it was then that Jack noticed Sandy's absence too.

Tooth touched the Green Knight's arm.

"He had to go, kind of busy with half the world already asleep. He said he'll see you again later and to give you a thumbs up, though!"

Managing the request with aplomb, Tooth veered sharply out of the way as Jack stepped forward into the debate.

"If you want help, Knight –" the name stuck on his tongue, "– then I'm here to give it. I don't want to interfere with what's best for you."

Bunnymund straightened as Jamie smoothly walked around him.

"If it's alright with you," he said, "I'll train up with both yourself and Jack. Does that seem fair?"

"Anything you say," conceded the overgrown kangaroo, mollified by having an ounce of respect tossed his way. Sniffing, he unfolded his arms. "Yeah, I, uh. I guess that sounds fine and dandy to me."

"Then it's sorted," said Jamie, flashing Jack a comrades-in-arms wink. "Jack gets tied down with me first, since he's so earnest about it."

"Heh!"

Jack shot Bunnymund a flat look, but in his hood he heard Baby Tooth giggle.

 

***

 

The Guardians spent Knight's first day as a spirit celebrating and welcoming him into the fold. He wasn't one of them, esteemed and brilliant (and the description made Bunnymund throw his head back in raucous laughter when the rabbit eyed Jack dubiously, earning a frozen tail) and that was more than alright. Jack sat down next to him at North's dinner table as elves scuttled about presenting fruit cakes and honey-slathered crumpets, hot chocolate avoided by the winter spirit who cooled down everything he touched anyway. 

Knight learned how to vanish his armor without sending his shirt along into the ether in the same breath, not that Tooth and her fairies minded his faltering efforts, on the fourth try. It was a matter of will, his clothing being far more integral to his make-up than Jack's hoodie was to him ("Got it off a washing line in the seventies - it's not too worn out yet, is it?") but it didn't constitute anything as intimate as Tooth's feathers or Bunnymund's pelt. He told North how his sword was presented to him by the grand old oak tree and the blade was given pride of place on a stand under the old Cossack's cutlasses while they ate, which they did sparingly save for North. Tooth nibbled at seeds and cookies, Bunnymund refused to share the only salad at the table and Jack barely touched what was put in front of him. It was only when Knight carved him a thick slice of black-forest gateau that he deigned to pick up a spoon and dig in like a naughty child under a parents watchful eye. After that, Jack had two more and a croissant without prompting, indulging as an afterthought.

The evening lights dimmed as sunset fell and he found himself yawning, much to the amusement of his peers. Everything was bathed in a warm candlelit glow, he was full and safe since the first time he has opened his eyes and he _loved_ them – these people, this mad cadre of spirits, right down to the way Jack denied flicking cherries at Bunnymund who reached for a boomerang that was yanked out of his grasp by tsking fairies.

"Time for bed," North announced, directing the elves to lead everybody to their guest-rooms. "Tomorrow, the Green Knight rises again!"

"Sleepy?" asked Jack quietly, attentive blue eyes swerving Knight's way as the party thinned out.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Get some rest and I'll take you out in the morning, we'll get started at a decently humane hour. Which reminds me, have you figured out how to get around? I don't have any more snow-globes on me to transport us where we want to go, the last one came via Bunny from this place in a hurry and I'd _really_ rather not carry you around if you can't fly. You're a little … buff."

"There's an oak tree in my room here."

"It's not part of the décor, I take it."

"Actually," said Knight with an amused twitch of his lips, "it sort of is. It sprouted when I was thinking about heading back to that glade sometime, the elves decorated it with tinsel and candy-canes."

"Sounds bizarre. We're travelling by tree? That's a new one."

"Yeah," chuckled Knight. Sobering as they followed Dingle around winding corridors, he hazarded a glance at the pale man ponderously keeping step. "Jack, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"What happened to the last Green Knight?"

Dingle opened the door to Knight's bedchamber with great ceremony, waving frantically when ignored and stomping off as a result. Jack stared in a way that spoke volumes about uncertainty and Knight almost felt bad for asking. It was his history, however, and it looked like Jack was warring between tact with truth when he saved Knight an interruption by choosing the latter.

"He chose to pass away."

"Chose?" Frowning, Knight cocked his head. The workshop was silent, the loudest sound around Jack's breathing. 

"You're going to live forever, it's just … It can be taxing if you don't have the stomach for it."

"Oh. It became too much for him?"

"The Green Knight has been around for a couple of thousand years at least, last I checked."

Brows raised on both parts.

"Wow."

"Yeah. Summer's a big deal, I'd say it even rivals winter in some cases."

"Very funny," said Knight, slouching against the door. Jack smiled and adjusted his staff on the ground, withholding any ice from the casual rapping. A companionable lull fell, broken when Knight smiled in chagrin. "Thanks, again. For everything, actually. Did I say that already? I mean it. You came to get me when I was lost and alone, it – it means a lot."

He supposed Jack's eyes were so blue because of his seasonal affiliation, but they never lacked any warmth when they locked on Knight; he liked it.

"We're friends. I hope you know that."

"I do. Is this because of the last guy who landed this gig?"

"The _last_ Green Knight? Uh, heh. No. No, it's all you."

"Then why do you care about me so much?"

"I'm a giver," Jack said flippantly after a moment's weighty pause, patting him on the arm. Knight had to work not to feel brushed off, reminding himself that Jack really was a true friend, as stated. He would explain everything in time. "Nighty-night, Knight. You're getting put through the wringer tomorrow, so get some sleep."

"Are you ever going to stop with the name-calling?"

"Hey, I'd have been happy calling you Green-fingers."

"Gross."

"Not cool enough?" mused Jack, walking backwards to follow an irate Dingle. 

"You say it like I get some sick thrill out of fondling moss," said Knight flatly.

Laughing all the way around the corner, Jack called out a final _Sleep tight!_ and Knight thought he might have seen him float off the floor a little as he held his middle, yet he couldn't be sure. 

His bedroom was blissfully quiet with only the snap and pop in the grate of the fireplace picking at the peace, allowing his thoughts to broil to the surface. If the Man in the Moon had given away the location of his birth as Jack's story said, had it been a mistake? He was undeniably the spirit that Knight felt the most comfortable around, so it was very likely that if Manny saw fit to bring Knight to life, he also knew who would prove the best companion.

_His laugh sounded so familiar._

The oak tree sprouting out through the dresser had lashed thicker boughs across the timber of the ceiling since the last time he had been in the room, bushier in their green glory despite the frigid temperatures outside and a decided lack of soil. A rainbow glimmer caught his eye in the bole, revealed to be the little fairy Jack termed Baby Tooth to set her apart from the others.

"Hey, there. Did you find somewhere to sleep, little hummingbird?"

Tweeting happily, Baby Tooth nodded and snuggled into a bed of pre-arranged leaves inside her hollow. A mirrored image stopped him as he turned away, staring at his reflection over the crackling hearth. Stepping closer, he traced the green veins sprawling up his throat and temples, inspecting the curiosities of his appearance as closely as he has been scrutinizing the others'. There was so much he still didn't understand. The role of the Green Knight, how he fitted into the grand scheme of things, whether other spirits would be as welcoming as the Guardians. 

He had been treated so well since first Jack had touched him. That kind of frost, it could never kill a flower intentionally.

"Nighty-night, Knight," he repeated as he turned away and banished all but his breeches, collapsing into the goose-down bed to sleep the sleep of the dead. Hopefully, Jack would prove a merciful tutor and let him sleep past noon.

 

***

 

Deep in the belly of the underworld, beneath four innocuous posts planted around a hole in the ground, shadows shifted restlessly against a monochrome Venetian landscape. Whinnies carried like screams through the cold tomb, fading from existence as they searched for their brother. Sometimes they did that. Sometimes, of course, they brayed and stamped and churned up the brick and mortar as the fear of their captive host drove them near-wild with lust, oblivious to everything, even one another. A fury to devour terror, no more than a blueprint of his own starvation but still, _potent_. Infused with a fearlessness unrivalled by mortals.

Pitch gripped the Nightmare by the throat, fighting the imagery of vanishing forever that the blasted, traitorous thing forced into his mind's eye. Why he had ever invested in them so much to begin with had long been drawn into question.

"Now, then," he purred, staring down a half-hearted sandy glare. Just for good measure, he tightened his fist. "You said a new Green Knight has been chosen."

Trying to buck out of his grasp, the Nightmare pulled back its lips to snarl and gnash, but it only served to incense its wounded (no, _healing_ ) master all the more instead of demoralize his conviction. Dragging it to the edge of a bridge, eyes of fool's gold tempered with a blade's edge stared down. Hooves scraped the ancient pathway, chipping for purchase as inch by inch, it was thrust out over an inky lake that refused to reflect the sparse light.

"Allow me to rephrase," Pitch calmly repeated. "You are going to tell me everything about the spirit you saw or I am going to destroy first you, then your entire _bloody_ herd."

The darkness crept up on the Boogeyman's back yet instead of balking he wore it like a king's helm into an oncoming battle, and the Nightmare whickered submissively.


End file.
